


James T. Kirk Goes to Therapy

by Banna



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, So Married, Suicide, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25102603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banna/pseuds/Banna
Summary: A few months after getting married, Jim starts having horrible nightmares. Spock encourages him to go therapy.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	James T. Kirk Goes to Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> I know the tags are dark but I promise this work really isn't lmao. Also yes I am projecting my trauma onto Jim, why do you ask? Cw for discussion of suicide, alcoholism, and child abuse. Spock and Jim are still so in love. Ok, thanks for reading!

Jim looked around the sterile waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down with stress almost uncontrollably. He hadn’t wanted to go, in fact, after his mother had forced him to go when he was young, he had promised himself that he would never go again. But that was before...well before everything else had changed.  
  
Jim had also told himself that he would never allow himself to get into an actual relationship either. People hurt people, always, especially the people they love. That’s what the rule had been. One night stands, sure. Those were wonderful, especially the ones where he slipped out before the other person woke up.  
  
That’s part of the reason he had wanted to become an officer, and eventually a captain. Being someone’s superior was a reason he could have friendships where he still held people at arm’s length. And if they ever questioned why he wouldn’t allow them to get close, he could use his position as a convenient excuse.  
  
Besides, everyone loved the surface level Jim he projected to the world. He was bright, and bubbly and friendly. People had told him he was a good captain, a good boss. He was understanding of the crew and disciplined but not overly harsh. Most people never questioned his carefully crafted exterior. That is, before Spock.  
  
Spock had never seemed like the person Jim needed to worry about keeping away from his barriers, but he had been inching forward so slowly that Jim had hardly noticed. It started with some innocent conversations about the work they did, that devolved into their own interests. Somehow, chess had come up, and after they found out they shared an equal passion for it but opposite strategies, it had seemed only natural that he would ask his first officer to play a game with him.  
  
That had progressed into at least a few games a week, and then sometimes having a meal together afterward or before. Jim started realizing that when their shifts were on opposite schedules he missed Spock’s presence on the bridge. Then it started to be that they shared nearly all their time off duty together. Personal questions started being asked, and Jim found himself answering. If only so he could keep hearing about Spock’s childhood on Vulcan.  
  
Two years into their five-year mission, Jim realized he was in love with Spock, and frankly, panicked. At this realization, he knew he had done exactly what he had set out to avoid, allowing himself to be in a position where he could be hurt. And while this felt bad, what felt even worse was to consider not being friends anymore. He had forgotten how good close relationships felt and now was not willing to lose it. So, he resolved not to let this change anything, he would just ignore this and push it down.  
  
But then, almost exactly a year later, Jim had gotten grievously injured on an away mission. He had been shot in the chest, just a bit left of his heart, and was certain he was going to die. He didn’t die, but only because Spock had melded with his mind and used his own Vulcan healing trance to keep Jim as close to stable as he could until help arrived. While their minds were connected, they had seen each other’s true feelings and had seen that they loved each other.  
  
Once Jim had recovered, it wasn’t even a question between them. Spock had calmly informed him that he was his T’h’yla, a Vulcan word meaning friend, lover, and brother. The closest thing it translated to in English was, Spock had said softly, soulmate.  
  
They had tried to keep their relationship under wraps from the crew for the remaining two years of the mission, as it wasn’t exactly accepted for a captain and first officer to be involved. Jim had thought they had done a fairly good job of it too until Uhura informed him that the entire crew had been aware, and they were lovesick idiots.  
  
After the end of their mission, they had married. A beautiful ceremony that was mixed with Earth’s and Vulcan’s traditions. Their minds were bonded forever. This Jim (who although was in deep denial, did know he had raging abandonment issues), liked very much. However, this was also the first time that the topic of his father had come up in earnest when Spock asked why he wasn’t being invited to their wedding. Before then Jim had deftly avoided the topic of his parents by saying that his mother had passed away and he wasn’t close with his father. He had thought that would be enough. At Spock’s question, Jim had frozen and given a stiff ‘because’ and then strode into another room. Blessedly, Spock had not questioned him further about his strange behavior. Rather, he had given him a wordless and gentle hug. Jim had disentangled himself before the tears began streaming down his face.  
  
And then, they were married. They moved into a cozy apartment and started their lives together.  
  
It was beautiful. It was safe, caring, loving, passionate, silly, everything Jim had ever wanted, and never believed he would have. But then, three months into their marriage, the nightmares started.  
  
Jim never remembered them. He just awoke, drenched in a cold sweat, often screaming and usually being restrained by his husband. When he would realize he was awake he would collapse into Spock’s arms and sob. Spock would stroke his hair and hum to him until eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep.  
  
After three happened in a week, Spock had broached the topic carefully over breakfast, voicing his concern. Jim had started to get dark circles under his eyes. It was clear that even the sleep he was getting, wasn’t restful. He had brushed it off, claiming he had eaten too much before bed, and this sometimes happened to humans. Spock had pursed his lips but had pressed him no further.  
  
Instead of getting better, as Jim had hoped, the nightmares got worse. They happened almost every night, sometimes twice. It was then that Spock had suggested therapy to Jim. “I sense a block in your past. Extreme hurt. Trauma. And you won’t talk to me about it. I’m not even sure that I would be the best to help you, my love. I think they’re manifesting in these nightmares.” He had said.  
  
Jim had lashed out, exploded. He had screamed insults at Spock as he never had before, accused him of probing his mind without permission, and many other things. Then he had run out of the apartment and gotten into a bar brawl. He limped back to their apartment sobbing apologies and had felt his heart break when he saw his husband curled on his side in their bed, tears streaming down his own face. They had cried together for many hours, talking about everything. And, Jim had agreed to try therapy. That night, he didn’t have any nightmares.  
  
So here he was, sitting in a waiting room of a therapist that Spock said had seen many commanders and captains. Everything in his body told him to run, and try again another day (or maybe never, ideally never). Instead, he tried to do the deep breathing techniques Spock had taught him that he used for his Vulcan meditations. They helped a little. Besides, he had told Spock that he would do this, and so he would.  
  
A woman in a simple, flowy clothes came out of an office and called his name. He stood and introduced himself to her.  
  
“It’s nice to meet you, Captain,” she said. She had a pleasant, quiet voice. But it wasn’t wispy, it was steady.  
  
“It’s good to meet you too.” He replied. “But please just call me Jim.” She smiled and nodded, and they walked into her office. It was much more comfortable than the waiting room. There was softer lighting and a nice-looking couch, as well as what he assumed was her chair. The couch was across from a chair that he assumed she would sit in. He laughed nervously. “I don’t have to lay down on the couch do I?” He asked, referring to an old Earth tradition in therapy.  
  
She smiled gently. “No, sit however makes you comfortable.”  
  
Jim thought to himself that it was virtually impossible to be comfortable in this setting, but thought it best not to point it out her right then.  
  
“So, you said on the phone that you had had bad experiences with therapy before? I wanted to start by allowing you to set boundaries with me and in our session so we don’t inadvertently recreate any trauma. Does that sound ok?”  
  
Jim bit his lip. “Yeah, that sounds alright.”  
  
“Ok. I’m going to ask you a few questions about your past experience.”  
  
“Ok.”  
  
“Were you forced to go to therapy?”  
  
Jim’s heartbeats quickened. “Yes.”  
  
“Was it a parent who forced you to go, when you were a child?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Ok. I want you to know, Jim, that you can leave at any point. There will not be any resentment from me about it. This is your work, your healing. You have the power here.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Alright good. Can you start by telling me a bit about your childhood, anything you feel comfortable sharing.”  
  
Nothing, he felt comfortable with sharing nothing. But he had to try.  
  
“I grew up on a farm, in what used to be the American midwest. We had a house, a dog. I went to school. I was pretty well-liked by the kids at school. I had some friends.”  
  
“Did you spend a lot of time with them outside of school?” She asked.  
  
His mouth went dry, feeling like this was a leading question. He took another deep breath. He had the power here. “No, not much. Just in school really. Sometimes I went to their houses.”  
  
“Not to yours?” He shook his head. His father was usually drunk and angry by the time he got home from school, he would never bring another child into that mess. He sucked in a breath, that was the first time he had thought about that in a while. Jim expected her to ask him more questions about that, but she merely nodded and made a note.  
  
“Did you have many close friendships? People you talked to about your feelings, your hopes with.”  
  
“Not really, no. We mostly just played sports together, went to get ice cream, or went to see old movies, stuff like that.”  
  
“Sounds like fun.”  
  
“Yeah.” In fact, it had been that time with his friends (or more accurately classmates) which had given him every good memory in childhood. It was that time that given him a respite away from his home.  
  
“How would you describe your parent’s marriage?” She asked, almost casually.  
  
“It was bad.” He replied. “That’s all I can do for now I think.”  
  
“Alright.” She said serenely. “I’ll see you next week?”  
  
“You will.”  
  
And with the gentle encouragement of Spock, he did continue to return to therapy.  
  
Each session got a little closer to their scheduled hour. As the weeks passed, he found himself sharing more and more. Until he admitted his father’s extreme alcoholism. And finally, they came to the root of it.  
  
“Did your father ever hurt you, Jim, more than just with his words?”  
  
“Not at first. At first, he raised his voice so loud it seemed to shake the house. Then he started slamming his fist so hard on the table, you knew he was picturing hitting you. Next, he threw things, always my things or my mom’s. And then yes, he hit us. Mostly me. But when my mom rarely stepped in to help me, he’d hit her then too.”  
  
“Do you resent your mom?”  
  
“She did her best.”  
  
“That’s not what I asked.”  
  
“Yes. I do ok! I know she was abused too but-” his voice was choked by sobs. “But I was her child! And she wouldn’t leave him. She just stuck me in therapy to learn to ‘think more positively’! I just wanted to be away from my dad! And then-even when he finally did leave she had to...to.” He couldn’t say it, he never had been able to.  
  
“What Jim, what did she do?”  
  
“She killed herself! She killed herself when he left! Even after he hurt me brutally for seventeen years she loved him more than me! She couldn’t stay for me. She didn’t love me enough to stay. I wasn’t good enough for her to stay.” He collapsed into sobs that wracked his whole body.  
  
“Thank you for sharing that with me. Jim, you were always enough. You survived abuse, you made a life for yourself. But even if you hadn’t, you would have been good enough.”  
  
Jim went home that night and told Spock the rest of the story, finally telling him what actually had happened to his mother.  
  
“Oh T’hy’la, I am so sorry. And I am here. You are loved, and you were always enough.” Spock said and encircled him in his arms. They connected their minds and Spock found the entirety of Jim’s mind unblocked to him.  
  
They stayed like that for hours, until Jim fell asleep and Spock carried him to bed. Jim slept soundly that night.


End file.
